When the wolf and the dragon met
by Asatigre
Summary: Jon Snow found himself trapped inside Dragonstone, cursing the day he decided to go south. Daenerys, on the other hand, can't help but grow more and more curious of the brooding King that came to see her. Set during season 7, be wary of SPOILERS!


Jon snow paced around in circles. Everything had gone to shit. Every single one of his advisors in the north had told him not to go through with his decision. Even his sister, Sansa, had advised him not to be a fool like his father was and stay in Winterfell, where he belonged. He didn't listen.

Barely any light came from the window. Outside, no moon or stars were visible, just clouds and an upset sea raging in the distance, most likely foretelling a storm. It was a sight that went well with his mood.

The room he was currently in did not improve the situation. The lady of Dragonstone had allowed him to stay in a tight room with little else than a simple oaken bed and a matching, tiny writing table leaning on the wall close to the window. With the addition of a modest fireplace, there was little room to pace, much to his displeasure.

He shouldn't be there. He should be near the wall, leading his men and the free folk, feeling the cold winter wind on his face. The dead were coming and he was trapped inside a room. It wasn't the time to be sheltered. He had more important things to do than to put up with a woman's whims.

With nothing better to do, he took off his armor and his shoes before slipping inside the bed. It was more comfortable than it appeared, or maybe his body was so tired that it didn't matter where it crashed. Even lying down, his mind wouldn't stop racing. If it weren't for the unsullied guards on the door, he would have gone outside to the grassy fields a long time ago. He had to get his thoughts in order.

Instead, he had to settle for the indoors. Not his favorite place to brood, but he had to make do. Too bad Daenerys had placed Davos in a room far from his. Exchanging ideas with his right hand man would certainly alleviate some of his anxiety.

Daenerys… The dragon queen, rightful heir to the Iron throne. Jon had to admit he was impressed with her. For a woman her size she sure had a strong will, as if her very being had been made to bend and conquer others. No wonder she was a Targaryen. Had Jon been someone else, he would have probably submitted to her. However there he was, trapped inside a room. Maybe it would have been the smart thing to do, but to Jon, it certainly did not feel as the right thing.

There was a great war coming, which would decide the fate of mankind. There was no time to worry about who was above who and other foolish things the southerners seemed to only live for. Besides, he had meant everything he had told her in the throne room. He had a duty to defend his northerner vassals and for all he knew, the dragon queen could have the same madness as her father lurking under her beautiful face. He didn't know her enough to name her as his and the North's queen.

Yet he still needed all the help he could rally. Cersei and her allies would be terribly hard to convince, if they could be made to listen and stop plotting to kill him. And he was certain he would never bend the knee to them as long as he lived. His people would also agree. That only left queen Daenerys as the one who had the manpower and supplies to help them survive against their enemy to the north.

As the night grew darker, Jon's thoughts subsided. He would think better about what to do in the following day, and he would try to get to Ser Davos. Sleep soon washed him over before he even realized.

The following day, when Jon woke up, he didn't feel the sun hit his face. He was usually the first of the Stark family to wake up, just as soon as the sun came out. The watch's habits had never left him.

Still lightheaded and groggy from his rest, he managed to put the boots on and get inside his armor without much thought. For a moment he forgot about his problems, however, as soon as his focus was sharp again, they came to his attention. When he would finally catch a break?

"Greetings, your grace," Davos said as soon as Jon came out of his room. The man had been waiting for him.

"Good morning, Ser Davos."

"I'm afraid it's no longer morning. It's almost midday. You slept in."

Jon wasn't too surprised to hear so. His body and mind were so tired the previous night that he could have spent the whole day in bed. At the moment, he needed food. Davos had seemed to read his thoughts.

"The cook is still in the kitchen. You should go to the dining hall, I'll get her to make you breakfast."

"Thank you, Davos. When you're done, I need you to join me at the table. There are things we need to discuss."

"Alright then." the older man said before making his way to the kitchen. Jon left his room and turned to the right, towards the dining hall.

The hall that guided him to his destination was one of the smallest and most humble in Dragonstone. However it still was quite well decorated. On the black stone walls you could see expertly carved reliefs. There were reliefs of dragons; human warriors; long haired rulers, most likely Targaryens, and a huge relief of a dragon eating a person while a woman rode it.

Jon raised his eyebrow as he saw the picture. It apparently was in the Targaryen blood to feed their opponents to their dragons. He hoped Daenerys would be more merciful than her ancestors.

Besides the awe striking reliefs, the hall also had window gaps, of which their shapes seemed strange to Jon. They looked like inverted triangles with embedded red, orange and cyan blue stained glass. They also sported dragon motifs.

Jon took longer to arrive at the dining hall than he expected. By the time he sat down, Davos had already brought him a hearty meal of beans, boiled eggs and a loaf of hard bread accompanied by a portion of cheese. It was a feast to Jon. He didn't know how Davos had convinced the cook to do it but he sure was thankful.

"You can sit. There is no need to stay up." Jon told his loyal companion. Davos was probably feeling as out of place as he was in those ostentatious rooms and halls.

The duo sat alone in a table in the center of the room. The other tables around were completely devoid of any life. The perfect opportunity to discuss how to escape the fortress.

"Ser Davos, do you know what happened to our boat?"

"To be honest, your grace, I don't. Are you planning to leave this island?"

"Only as a last resort. I can't be here forever, waiting on these people's judgement while the Long night is coming for us all."

"I see… I suppose they have it guarded somewhere near the beaches where lord Stannis used to keep his captured boats. There used to be a sentinel house there. Heavily guarded I might add."

"So are we stuck here as the queen's whims command?"

"I believe so, your grace." Davos replied, looking down as he spoke. _Terrific_. Now Jon had to try to use his diplomacy skills to convince her to join his cause, or at least let him go free. He hated diplomacy and he wasn't a smooth talker.

Noticing that Davos was looking somewhat forlorn, Jon took it upon himself to keep small talk going on as he ate. It wasn't much but he hoped he could at least take some weight of his subject's shoulders.

"Is there anything worth seeing in this island besides the dragons all over the fortress?" Jon asked. Davos chuckled.

"More than what you would think. Have you seen the volcano in the island?"

"A volcano? That unusual looking mountain is a volcano?"

"Indeed. Long ago, the first Targaryens to settle in Westeros chose this cluster of islands to inhabit just because of it. Legend has it that dragons can only lay eggs near such places." The older man said. Jon was in awe of his words. Who would have thought there were such places in Westeros?

"Is the volcano a threat?" Jon asked.

"I don't believe so, your grace. Ever since Aegon's conquest, there hasn't been a record of any dangerous activity. There isn't any lava above the surface. But…"

"But?"

"There was a maester who left writings of some underground activity. Lord Stannis mentioned it once. Apparently it is not harmful in any way. The maester though that such phenomena were the reason why the dragons were attracted to Dragonstone."

"I see. So perhaps if the volcano were dry, it would not have any meaning for the dragons."

"Perhaps. That however is not something one of us can confirm for certain.

"True that," Jon concluded. "At least it isn't another thing that I have to keep in mind."

"Aye, It's enough already to be tormented by the cold to even have to think about the damn fire and its followers!" Ser Davos said louder than he intended.

Jon chuckled at the man's response. His honest upbringing and strong distaste for the followers of the Lord of Light amused him for some reason. It was Ser Davos's charm. It made the old smuggler seem more trustworthy and genuine.

Davos started chuckling as well. Sensing his subject was in a better mood, Jon pressed on.

"Is there anything more that I can see in here? If this rhythm keeps up, we'll have time to do almost anything."

"Well, besides that, there is a small fishing village in the north coast of the island. It is there that most servants in the fortress live."

"I didn't know about it. I should visit it if I have time, to see how the villagers regard their new queen."

"Indeed. Also, they have a tavern there that serves the most delicious fish stew I've ever tasted in my life. My wife loved it the last time we were there. There is also a lookout in the village where I took her. The view of the sea in the morning seems like something out of old tales."

"Thank you, Davos," Jon said as he looked the man in the eyes with faint smile.

"It was nothing, Jon," He replied, dropping his regular etiquette. Not that Jon cared, he considered the man more as friend than a subject.

"I will go around the beach and scout the area without getting into trouble. You should eat your breakfast so you can keep helping us all."

"Aye."

"Try to not stir up any conflicts." Davos added before he left the room. Jon gave him a wry smile. The man meant well. Sometimes his temper could get the best of him. He had to keep it in check if he wanted to serve his people the right way.

Jon left his plates completely empty. The food he got was much better that what he was used to get on the boat trip. Salted meat and salted fish gets boring after some time. However, he knew he should be thankful that there was still any food left. Who knew what he would have to settle for during the shortages in the upcoming war?

Closing the wooden door carefully, Jon left the room and went back to the hall.

"Ouch!" A girly voice cried out. Jon looked around trying to spot where the sound had come from. Behind him was a young girl on the floor. Before he knew what he was doing, Jon ran to next to her.

"Are you okay?" He asked, helping her up. Being close to the girl, Jon noticed her better than he had before. She was young and little, around Arya's age. Her puffy child-like cheeks told him as much.

"Yes, thank you milord." She replied with a soft tone, placing a long brown bang of hair behind her ear with a delicate gesture. Jon noticed she was wearing a black dress with some dragon patterns. The queen of dragon of Dragonstone had given her servants nice uniforms.

"You should be more careful. You could have hurt yourself badly."

"I'm sorry milord. My lady supervisor always tells me the same. Thankfully I haven't soiled anyone like I did last time." The girl said as she straightened her back, letting go of Jon's hand. She then placed up the bucket of water she tripped on and proceeded to mop the floor.

Jon watched for a moment as she hurriedly tried to mop the spilled water. One would think she was scared of what would happen to her if her blunder came to be known. However, Jon noticed her expression. She had a slight smile on her lips and her eyes had the same light his servants at Winterfell had in their own eyes.

"Do you like it here, girl?"

"Oh? I beg your pardon, milord?" The girl stopped what she was doing to face Jon with a curious look.

"I asked if you like being in this fortress. Do your lords treat you well?"

"Well… Yes of course! My lady supervisor is strict but she means well. We must ensure everything is in perfect condition, not to dishonor our queen."

"Your queen… Is she good to you?"

"Queen Daenerys? Yes! She is scary but she also is very kind!" The girl said excitedly.

"Kind?"

"Yes! Well, perhaps to you milord she couldn't be so, but she always takes care of her subjects. Not long ago I spilled a cup of wine on her dress. I was so scared, I thought she was going to feed me to her dragons!"

"Apparently she didn't." Jon jested. The girl giggled and replied to him in a loud child's tone.

"No! She instead patted my head and told me to be more careful next time."

"That was nice of her." Jon was honestly impressed. He knew Daenerys could be authoritative and fierce like a dragon, as he had witnessed in the throne room, yet at the same time he felt there was more about her character that didn't meet his eye.

"I'm sure she would be very kind to you milord as well if you swear allegiance to her."

"If I come to think she deserves it."

"Of course she deserves it, milord! Every servant and soldier here loves her. The grown-ups seem to want her to be queen of the whole realm. I support her as well."

"I see…" Jon thought about the girl's words. Not many lords in Westeros that he knew of could inspire such loyalty in their lowest castes of subjects. His father could. Maybe Daenerys had a good heart in her chest. He sure hoped so, or all would be screwed.

"Daisy! What are you doing?" A fat middle aged woman, also clad in black clothes yelled out.

"Uaahh! Lady superior! I'm sorry, I was just cleaning the hall and I tripped on the bucket."

"Again? Gods be with you girl…" The older woman said, before facing Jon. "We're sorry to inconvenience you milord,"

"It's alright." Jon replied. "The girl was kind and I was fond of her," Daisy blushed at Jon's comment.

"I'm glad to hear so, milord. Come child, we have tasks to do at the kitchen."

"Yes, mother superior. Goodbye, milord!" The girl waved to Jon as she was leaving, accompanied by her boss. Jon found himself waving back. He missed Arya and her loud banter.

Turning on his heel, he walked back towards his chambers. He had never gone to King's landing in his life, but he imagined the servants of the Red keep did not have such cheerfulness as the little girl had in their spirits. Heck, even his sister, a noble, had a miserable time in there. It was not unusual to hear the folk badmouth Cersei in their drunken chants at night, in the taverns.

 _I don't know much about ruling, that much is true, but I would like to see the smallfolk be happy._ Jon thought. Indeed, he had always admired his father for his kindness to even the lowest of his servants. Not once did he see him be arrogant or petty to them. And they in turn made sure to work their best for him, often with a smile. _Would it be so hard to have the whole of the Seven Kingdoms be like that?_

As he approached his door, two guards on each side of the door crossed their spears, barring him from entering.

"What is the meaning of this?" Jon asked.

"Milord, we're sorry to inform you but the servants are cleaning your room at the moment. Lord Tyrion and the queen have given you permission to roam the inside of the castle as you would like." One of the guards spoke.

"I see. Where is the library of this stronghold?" Jon asked the guards. The one who was silent gave him the directions without much ado. Thankfully, it wasn't far from his chambers. Dragonstone was big enough already.

The lord of Winterfell wasn't one to stay still for too long. As such, waiting to meet the queen or Tyrion again didn't bode well with him. He had to do something!

So why not try to learn more about the enemy? And he could always try something new to distract him for a while. As Sam's letter had told him, the island he was on was loaded with dragonglass, the only thing besides fire and valyrian steel swords that could kill s white walker. It would be wise to know more about that subject.

When he arrived at the library he was surprised to see that there weren't as many dragon decorations as he thought there would be. There were many bookshelves leaning on the walls, so many that the walls were not visible. Thankfully, the shelves were alphabetized to help visitors with their search.

Jon ran his finger through the spines of the books looking for something of interest. _Let's see what I can find in here._ If he were to be honest with himself, he was hoping to find a way to kill the Night king. There was nothing one could lose by just trying.

By the time he finished picking up books, the sun was halfway of its descent into the horizon, and Jon was weary from shuffling many heavy tomes around. Laying the books on a nearby table, he proceeded to plop himself on a cozy green armchair.

The library was quite comfortable, to his surprise, much different than the austere room he was put in. Next to the knee-height table where the books laid, there were four armchairs in almost a circle, facing a fireplace imbedded in the dark dragonstone wall, currently lit by one of the servants before Jon had entered the room. The flames from the hearth and from the candles in the ceiling made Jon feel, at last, somewhat welcomed in the fortress. It was odd to him, to feel nice indoors.

"Tales of the long night… Origins of the Targaryen line… Targaryen Lands… Atlas of the Seven Kingdoms… Magical fables… A treatise of Dragonstone… Folklore of the old Gods… For smiths' apprentices…" Jon mumbled as he gave each book he had brought a glance, trying to decide which one he should read first.

The tales of the long night caught his eye, and he wanted to read it first. However, he knew he had to know more about how to forge dragonglass, so he decided against it. Instead, he read first the book written for smiths.

Apparently, it was impossible to make swords out of dragonglass, or any equipment that used large slabs of it. Since it was very hard to heat the material up, smiths had to settle for small pieces, like daggers, arrowheads and spear points. If a smith was crafty enough, he could possibly make steel armor with dragonglass bits inlaid, but no more than that.

Targaryen lands talked about the island briefly, as the original seat of the long line of dragon lords in Westeros. Aegon the conqueror's ancestors chose the Archipelago because it had a volcano, which much suited the dragon's needs. Besides that, the island was the biggest source of dragonglass in the continent, so much so that the old Valyrians used it, along with magic, to shape up the fortress Jon was in. If he hadn't seen the white walkers, he would probably say that the magic part was bullshit. Unfortunately he knew better.

A treatise of Dragonstone was nothing more than a collection of records of dragonglass commerce agreements and its mining operations on the island. It mentioned the existence of many mining caves near the shore of the island, as well as their exact place. The knowledge of such places would be useful to his army, as they would not need to get into huge mining enterprises just to get the material they desperately needed.

"Tales of the long night…" Jon whispered to himself before opening the book. He had so many questions about his enemy, why was he terrorizing the westerosi people, where did his power come from, and how to stop him. Was he really just a blood thirsty beast?

It didn't really matter what that monster thought, only defeating it and protecting the people from his claws. Jon leafed through the pages, looking for things of interest. The book mainly mentioned the dangers of the long night and the true winters, how to live through them and things of the sort. Nothing he hadn't heard before from his father, maesters and even Old nan.

"Thousands of years before the Targaryen conquest, the children of the forest created the Night king and the white walkers as a defense against the first men, who were killing them and cutting their sacred trees." Jon read, "It is known that soon after, the creation turned against its master, and started the first long night."

With that, it was clear to Jon that his enemies were not much more than out of control beasts who cared little for anything other than the destruction of all living things. Talking with them was truly and without a doubt out of question.

"The Long Night descended upon the world and lasted an entire generation. Thousands starved as the crops and fields lay buried under dozens of feet of snow. In the darkness and cold of the long night, the White Walkers descended upon Westeros from the farthest north, the polar regions of the Lands of Always Winter. Only when a hero rose, Azor Ahai, the long night ended."

With a sigh, Jon closed the book. At least there was some hope to be had in the upcoming battle. The young lord took his time searching the other books he had brought over, but found nothing else of interest. As such, he placed them back on the shelves before leaving back to his room.

On the way back, he looked through the window of the hall. It was twilight already. _A day already past and I haven't done anything._ He thought. It had never occurred to him he would be reading so much at once either, it was not something he particularly enjoyed doing. Dangerous times made one have to be more flexible.

When Jon got inside his room, Davos was already sitting in the desk's chair, waiting for him. The man's expression was unreadable.

"Any news?" Jon asked.

"Aye. It appears our boat stands proudly in the port of Dragonstone, not heavily guarded, I might add."

"Does that mean the queen does not intend to keep us prisoners?"

"I don't know for certain, but I think so. If she wanted us locked up she wouldn't leave us here with so much freedom."

"I see. Perhaps she intends to test us." _It was only natural,_ Jon thought. He himself didn't trust her yet either.

"It is possible. I have other news as well. Lord Tyrion got me to relay the message that we are free to roam the island as we see fit, and that the queen will be meeting us again in one or two days. He said she is too busy at the moment with other things."

"What other things! Are they crazy?" Jon yelled "During the time they are wasting with stupid things, the Night king is strengthening his position!"

Davos lowered his head at his lord's words.

"I know how you feel Jon but we can't do anything right now. Even if they don't join us, we will still need their dragonglass."

Jon exhaled loudly as he calmed himself. He knew his friend was right, however, the utter ignorance of his fellow men enraged him sometimes, especially their lack of action taking.

"I am sorry Davos… You are right." Jon said as he looked Davos into the eye. "Can we at least send a raven to Winterfell?"

"We can. Lord Tyrion said there was ink and parchment in this desk. However I think we should wait for tomorrow to send word. We don't know how things will go."

"That is fine. Thank you Davos."

"My pleasure. Say, what were you doing today in the library? When I came to your room a while ago, the guards said you were there."

"Oh. I only went there to kill time, because they said they were cleaning the room."

"I see. Never took you for a reader."

"Me neither. I just took the opportunity to learn more about the enemy."

Jon took his time to share with Davos what he had learnt that day, and when he didn't have more to say, they started swapping stories of what they knew of old legends. Before long they were sharing stories of their childhoods and laughing. When they came to their senses, it was already night.

Davos then left the room, and later, a servant brought him supper. Jon gladly ate it and left it in the desk, before going to bed. He had to rest.

The following morning Jon managed to wake up around his usual time. He got out of bed, cleaned his face with water from a bucket that a servant had left on the floor and went straight to the dining hall to get his breakfast.

This time the room had half a dozen of men inside. They were mostly copper skinned soldiers clad in black armour that looked foreign to Jon. The sight reminded him of his time in the Wall. _I guess the queen has a brotherhood of her own._

The sun had barely came out at that time, so naturally only the most disciplined men were up at that hour. And the cooks too, surprisingly. It was the Lady superior from the other day that brought him a full plate of oats with a side of ham. She had a kind smile. Jon thanked her before digging in. It was true what Daisy had said the other day: the people were well treated, and had good food on their plates. _At least for now_.

After eating, Jon left the room and took more time to find the exit of the fortress than he'd like to admit. When he did find it, the two guards on the door uncrossed their spears wordlessly for him. Tyrion had not lied to Davos.

The fortress stood on a high rocky upland above the sea, which was covered by a sheet of grass. The sea below was calm; the waves softly came back and forth, moving the sand with roars. Above, the sky was purple and yellowish near the horizon, as the sun poked its head above the sea line. Suffice it to say it was a perfect scenery to take a step back to reflect.

Jon walked for a while around the perimeter of the fortress (which seemed to never end) before finding a comfortable rock to sit on, a few feet away from the cliff.

As he settled on the scenery, he let his thoughts pass through his mind without much judgement. He thought about how it was the right to do to come down to the island, despite the risks, he thought about how Tyrion was different from the other Lannisters, how he would most likely help him in his endeavours. Jon had hope he would be respected as an ally by the Dragon queen, given how she hadn't killed him and Davos yet.

What really made him tick though was how most people reacted to his warnings! It was as if they either thought him to be dumb or that he was trying to manipulate them into doing something. Was the world so much of a shithole that people could not break their cynicism and cast away their ambitions to band together to do something as basic as survive? The lone wolves would always die come the winter, as his father used to say.

Due to his passionate thoughts, Jon only noticed Tyrion approaching him when he was about two feet near him and started to speak. By that time, the sun was much higher on the sky.

"I came here to brood. You are making it difficult. You look a lot better brooding than I do."

"I am a prisoner in this island." Jon replied.

"I wouldn't say you are a prisoner. You are free to walk the castle, to the beaches, wherever you want."

"Except my ship. You took my ship."

"We didn't quite take it…"

"Look, I am not playing words games here. The dead are coming for us all! I can't understand you people. If someone told me about the white walkers and the night king…" Jon paused, looking away in realisation "You probably don't believe me."

"I actually do believe you. I trust the eyes of an honest man."

"Then how do I convince people who don't know me to believe in something that they think is not real?"

"That is a good question. People's minds are not made for such big problems."

"I need to help my people. I can't do it from here."

"I understand that, but look at things from Daenerys's perspective: Why would she trust you, a man she only met once, who refuses to bow down to her and asks her to take her armies north to fight some unknown enemy? That is not something reasonable to ask. Not just after a first meeting."

Jon started walking away from the dwarf.

"Do you have anything reasonable to ask?" Tyrion said.

"What do you mean?" Jon replied as he stopped walking and looked at the Lannister.

"I am asking if there is something I can do to help you?"

"I need to mine the dragonglass of this island. It is the only thing that can kill the white walkers, besides fire and valyrian steel."

"That is something more reasonable to ask. I will talk to the queen. You should have your answer either today or tomorrow. It all depends on when she is free."

"Thank you."

"I'll send you a note. Until then." Tyrion said before waddling away, leaving Jon alone with his thoughts.

The northern man had to have hope on his friend, or else his trip would have been for nothing. Jon decided to stay longer on the cliff. He deserved some rest and Ser Davos could bear to wait a little, if he wasn't searching for him already.

 **Author's notes: Thank you for taking the time to read my fanfiction, I hope it was of your liking. I would like to ask you to leave me a review telling me where I can improve, what you liked and what you did not like.**

 **This will be a four chapter story, I already have the plot all outlined, in is only a matter of me putting the pen to paper. I don't know when I will update it, please don't expect me to be updating it that soon.**

 **Best regards!**


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